


Times of peace

by Elisexyz



Series: Whumptober 2019 (AOS) [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Nightmares, Post-Episode: s02e21-22 S.O.S. Parts 1-2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Whenever he closes his eyes, Kara is still dead.





	Times of peace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Nightmare" bonus prompt in the Whumptober 2019 event.  
  
I mean, why write for more popular ships when you can chill in the rarepair pit with the other two poor souls who CRY AT THESE TWO DISASTERS WHO LOVED EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND *cries*  
Anyway. This is set in an AU in which Ward became an Inhuman with the ability to travel through time. Which of course he used to try and save Kara's life. Enjoy!

Whenever he closes his eyes, Kara is still dead.

At night, he can never remember that he saved her, that he got it wrong a million of times but eventually, somehow, he got to keep her, to set aside any thought of vengeance and run away from everything that would try to take her from him.

All he knows, as soon as he can’t see her vibrant smile anymore, hear the sound of her voice or feel the warmth of her skin against his, is how many times and in how many ways he failed.

(Falling asleep with her breathing against his neck helps, somehow. Never for long enough, though.)

She lays dead at his feet, she chokes on her own blood while clasping his shirt, she falls to the ground like an empty vessel because of a single bullet to the head—he screams and cries and begs, searching for her eyes and always finding them empty.

He is awake. He can recognize the shape of their bedroom, of that ugly-ass lamp that Kara insisted on buying for some reason – maybe just for the sake of being defiant, and doesn’t that make him feel happy enough that he doesn’t mind the racoon-shaped lamp that much anymore –, he remembers they made it.

Only, when he turns around, he finds Kara lying with her back turned on him, curled on herself and as still as in death. He isn’t even sure if he can see her breathing. And even if he did—he remembers this too.

He remembers dreaming of waking up by her side, a smile of relief bubbling at his lips when he laid eyes on her, air rushing easily into his lungs at the realization that she was _fine_—then he reached out, touched her shoulder out of instinct more than anything else, moved by sheer need of seeing her face, and the light touch was enough for her to roll over, neck covered in blood and eyes white.

His general response to fear is to fight, even in the face of unlikely – or downright terrible – odds. In this moment, staring at Kara’s hair sprawled on the pillow, scrambling for a reason to truly believe that he is awake, terror freezes him in place, his fingers trembling with the need to reach out and his arm refusing to move.

He tries to breath in, choking on nothing instead as his eyes start stinging.

He can’t do this again, he had saved her—maybe he is only asleep—maybe he just needs to wake up—to see her lie there, dead and bloody and _gone_, and then he can go back to a world where they are together and happy and _safe_—

(The real question might be, is that even the reality or a mere fantasy he is trying to hold onto throughout yet another jump through time?)

“Kara?” he eventually chokes out, a broken whisper that he can barely hear himself. It doesn’t surprise him that she doesn’t stir, not rationally, but his stomach shrinks in increasing horror all the same.

“Ka—_Kara_,” he tries again, louder, beginning to lean in her direction so that he can maybe reach out, put an end to this, whatever the outcome—

Kara takes a loud, deep breath, rolling over so that she is facing him, rubbing her eyes with one hand and frowning at him in the semi-darkness. “Grant?” she calls, sleepily, like the word is heavy on her tongue. “Are you okay?”

He chokes out a laugh, unable to come up with a coherent thought in the face of her being _alive_, talking to him and _moving_ and—it wasn’t a dream. He saved her. He gets to keep her.

“You are shaking,” she comments, concern colouring her voice as she reaches out, rubs his arm up and down, cups the side of his face. She is beautifully warm.

He breaks into a toothy smile. “It’s fine,” he says, his voice hoarse with silent screams and his eyes burning like the hell that he had been dreaming about – that he had been remembering. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

Kara doesn’t seem too convinced, but she doesn’t press, instead shifting closer, nudging him into rolling on his back so she can get settled against him.

“We should go back to sleep, then,” she says, soft and gentle as her nose brushes against his neck, and he wonders if she can feel how fast his heart is beating right now.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, pulling her a little closer with one arm around her shoulders, until she is sliding one leg in between his and her hand is resting on his chest. He reaches out for that hand, interlacing his fingers with hers and not planning on letting go any time soon. “Let’s.”

Life without her is now nothing but a series of horrible nightmares.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
